There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

Miss Occultist set down her teacup and elegantly covered her mouth with a tissue, her gaze casting over oddly.

She knew better than anyone the origin of the rose, and if the butler wasn't lying about this, then the rose shouldn't have been given to Mr. Guo by the butler.

And Tan Xiaohe also mentioned that Mr. Guo now has a flower on him?

Thinking this through, Zhan Qian suddenly stood up with a stern expression, the chair screeching across the floor from the abrupt movement.

Tan Xiaohe seemed startled, "What's wrong?"

Zhan Qian didn't speak, looking unsettled as she made her way toward the staircase in the hall with long strides beneath her black dress.

But just then, the old butler suddenly came in from outside, "Miss Zhan? Good morning to all the guests, I hope you all slept well here last night?"

He looked perplexedly at Zhan Qian, who seemed to be on her way somewhere, and then politely nodded and greeted the people following behind him.

"Thank you for the hospitality, it was quite good," Miss Painter nodded in response.

"Butler, has something happened?" Zhan Qian stopped, turning to ask him.

"Here's the thing, I've just received word that the police are on their way to the manor, so I came to inform the guests," the butler said politely.

Upon hearing this, everyone showed various expressions, but regardless, the police coming over to help with the investigation was a good thing for them.

The butler then turned to Xu Shuo and said, "Chef Zhang, please prepare a few more breakfasts."

The police had been called last night but were delayed due to the thunderstorm and the difficult mountain roads. They must have set off early today and it was only about eight o'clock now.

"Okay," Xu Shuo nodded and turned back to the kitchen.

"Miss Zhan, what happened just now?" the butler suddenly asked after he left.

"It's nothing, I just wanted to go check on Mr. Guo's current situation," Zhan Qian hesitated before speaking truthfully.

The butler lowered his head, "The police will be here soon."

Zhan Qian nodded and said no more.

The group returned to the living room to sit, and in the meantime, the butler inquired about another person's condition, only to be brushed off by Tan Xiaohe with the excuse of not sleeping well because she was not used to the bed.

Soon after, the butler received another message and stood up to go outside to meet someone.

The police must have arrived. Tan Xiaohe was completely indifferent, Zhan Qian frowned thoughtfully, the photographer seemed a bit eager, while the murderer in the kitchen was preparing breakfast as if nothing was amiss.

Before long, the butler returned with a young man wearing a beige trench coat and a hunting hat, who walked in with a smile on his face.

He certainly didn't look like a policeman, and the butler's expression seemed a bit off, too.

"Hi there," the young man greeted, raising his hand to the few people on the sofa as he adjusted his collar and chuckled, "The heavy rain last night clogged the mountain roads with mud and rocks, so I was the only one who managed to come over beforehand."

He probably wasn't lying, as his trouser legs were covered in mud, leaving footprints with each step he took as he walked in, and he had some dirt on him, though the hat on his head was impeccably clean.

Zhan Qian slightly raised her eyebrows, "Who might you be?"

"You actually don't recognize me?!"

The young man raised his eyebrows too, suddenly leaning in close to her, pointing at himself with his thumb, and grinned, "I'm such a famous detective, you can't tell me you've never seen me in the newspapers, have you? No way, right?"

These days they don't still rely on newspapers to spread news, do they? They can't be, right?

Maintaining her grace, Zhan Qian leaned back slightly to create some distance and spoke indifferently, "Sorry, I don't usually pay attention to such news. Sometimes, even if I see it, I forget it."

The young detective still huddled close, stroked his chin, and chuckled as he scrutinized her, "Is that so? I think I recognize you. You're quite beautiful, so I couldn't have forgotten you. Aren't you that famous mysticist? I didn't expect the affairs of this mansion to have drawn you in as well?"

Upon hearing this, Zhan Qian was slightly surprised internally; in fact, the other players beside her were also somewhat taken aback.

They had not expected that these characters' identities would actually exist outside as well; they had thought these were merely hollow roles created solely for the game's script and that outside the mansion, they might be akin to people without an official identity.

The butler spoke up at the right moment, "Mr. Gu, let me take you to change your clothes first."

The detective straightened up, his gaze sweeping over each person sitting on the sofa, then suddenly paused, before he casually withdrew his gaze and smiled at the butler, "Thank you~"

The two of them left quickly, leaving the four on the sofa with peculiar expressions.

"So a detective has actually shown up, this plot really is quite interesting," Tan Xiaohe commented, tilting her head as she watched the young man's retreating figure.

"He might be the GM," Zhan Qian, who had just been approached by the man, sat back down, somewhat displeased as she remarked, "In scripted murder games there's usually a game master to control the scene, existing to guide the players in solving the mystery."

The game wouldn't stay stuck in one place forever; when the players hit a dead end, that's when the GM needs to step in to advance the storyline.

Actually, as far as scripted murder games go, this plot is quite standard thus far: players immerse themselves into their roles, the GM controls the whole scene, and now everyone has arrived.

Tan Xiaohe nodded, "Is that so, but this GM seems quite frivolous."

Zhan Qian rarely agreed with her, that kid had actually flirted with her just now!

At that moment, the previously silent and inconspicuous Miss Painter suddenly said, "I noticed that when the detective discovered the photographer, his expression seemed a bit off. Could it be that you know each other?"

As soon as she finished speaking, the three girls all looked that way.

The photographer said, "hey," scratched his head in embarrassment, and said, "But, even if he knows me, I don't know him. We don't have the memories of the characters we're playing, right?"

"Exactly," said Zhan Qian, frowning, "Isn't it very easy to get exposed if someone familiar appears in the script?"

Running into someone your character knows—say they greet you, and you don't recognize them—any normal person would find that quite strange.

After all, they were just players there to solve the case; they couldn't possibly be expected to act out interactions with characters from the script, could they?

But the player scripts given by the system didn't specify any details; there was no mention of character traits or backstories. What a trap!

...

Inside the kitchen, Xu Shuo, who had just activated his Character Card and received half of the script, looked at the retreating figure of the detective, lost in thought.

This Detective Gu actually had a significant connection to the mansion.

For some reason, in the last few years, he had been persistently requesting to visit Mr. Guo, but he had never been received by Mr. Guo.

Even entering this mansion was only possible because he seized the opportunity to come with the police due to the events this time.

More importantly, he seemed to have a potential connection with the "Zhang Shou" identity in that particular matter.

He hoped the detective wouldn't recognize him.